No Longer Misunderstood
by Joolah
Summary: Quistis battles her inner emotions at a party one night, and Squall's thoughts are so troubling that he can't even sleep. What happens when he is shown something of great importance through the 'dream world'? *FINALLY FINISHED, AND I'M BACK!*
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft. I am making no profit off of this fanfiction. It is for entertainment purposes only. However, the story**_ does _**belong to me, and you may_ not _use any part of it for any purpose without my permission.   
  
**Author:** Kisutis   
  


*** 

No Longer Misunderstood   
  
  


> Feelings buried beneath her exterior totally clashed with the cheerful, colorful mood that the ballroom held. Throughout the evening, various shapes and colors of lights brightened and faded, creating whatever effect the next song would call for. The majority of the occupants that flooded the vast expanse of marble flooring seemed to enjoy it, although, for numerous reasons, the lights and music only served to give her a headache. 
> 
> She could have fooled any given person. It made her heart ache – no one knew her well enough to discover that her true emotions cowered deep within her, unexposed to anyone for fear of shame. People may have thought they knew everything about her, especially the Trepies, but it was all so completely different in reality -- without the battles, teaching, or just having some random monster to take out her anger on. Being an instructor before, she was expected to hold herself up, never needing the support of anyone . . . She might as well live up to it, right? 
> 
> For the moment, it all seemed logical. After all, wasn't it true that the only man she would ever–could ever–love had been taken beyond her reach? Never to return, she knew, because of the binds he had been set in; binds that probably even held his eyes . . . his beautiful, gray-blue eyes . . . captive and oblivious to any other. Now, he couldn't move, and maybe he didn't want to . . . 
> 
> So, did this mean that the small amount of hope she had managed to keep was all for nothing? There was no denying, no matter how much she tried to prevent herself from believing it, that Squall belonged to Rinoa; his binds. She was well aware that there was no separating the couple . . . 
> 
> . . . And she choked – not on the smooth liquid dancing with bubbles in her glass, nor anything she could make sense of. Perhaps it was an attempt to hold back the sobs she could foresee; the tears she shed all alone in her room at night as she had no one special to share the stars with. Moments she spent in mourning all because of him and the chance she never took . . . It was stupid, pathetic, and getting her nowhere. 
> 
> But oh, if only . . . What if she had been the one to ask Squall to dance, instead of Rinoa? Why couldn't she have taken that small step forward, besides the raven-haired girl that had been just a stranger to him? Things would have turned out differently, then, right . . . ? 
> 
> She shook her head, golden-blonde tresses on both sides of her pallid countenance swaying briefly, and suddenly felt the urge to crush the delicate, crystal champagne glass she held in her left hand for thinking in such a way. How could she wish their love away so selfishly? The pang of guilt helped to wake her up to the realization that she shouldn't dwell in the past, anyway. What happened could not be fixed.   

> 
> _. . . I have to let him go . . ._   

> 
> One question seemed to relentlessly bother her – shouldn't she be glad because Squall was happy? She wanted to be, but it was so difficult to feel cheerful when she saw him enveloped in Rinoa's arms . . . Never would her own arms embrace him, nor would her lips ever experience the sweet taste and sensation of his. 
> 
> All because of what? What had she done to deserve the punishment of being near someone she had known for so long, yet having them stolen away in practically a single night? She wanted to be with him so badly, but her heart reminded her that it wouldn't be right.   

> 
> _. . . Nothing ever seems right . . ._   

> 
> She couldn't bear staying there any longer, watching the happy couples dance without a care in the world. Just by standing there, her heart had been shattered and broken in over one hundred different ways. 
> 
> Leaving her barely touched champagne on a nearby table, she simply turned and made her way out, thankful that the lighting was dim at the time. Her steps were hardly audible as she stepped outside of the ballroom, gladly hearing the headache-inducing music fade away behind her. 
> 
> The hallways of the Garden were deserted -- everyone was at the party. Her steps continued as she placed one leather, knee-high boot in front of the other, not caring where she ended up. It didn't matter. 
> 
> After a while, she removed her azure eyes from the floor, her soft footsteps ceasing as she saw the Training Center in front of her. She wasn't sure why, but she started down the long corridor, reaching one of the gates. 
> 
> Before long, the 'secret area' was visible -- it was the last place she and Squall had been alone together. Reaching the door, she pulled it open and stepped inside. The view was as spectacular as ever, and the stars were just as bright as she remembered that night that seemed so long ago . . .   
  
  

> 
> ***   
  
  

>
>> So, what did you think? Short, I know, but I don't want to continue until I have some good opinions of it.**_ Please _**review. It will be greatly appreciated. I'll put up a much longer chapter next time if I get lots of reviews. Thanks for reading!   
  



	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer:** Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft. I am making no profit off of this fanfiction. It is for entertainment purposes only. However, the story**_ does _**belong to me, and you may_ not _use any part of it for any purpose without my permission.   
  
**Author:** Kisutis   


*** 

No Longer Misunderstood - Chapter Two   
  
  


> It was late, and the hour at which he was still awake was doing nothing to numb his ceaseless, unwanted thoughts as he lay underneath the weightless, white sheets on his bed. Tousled strands of light brown fell disorderly in front of his visage, brushing against dark, slightly furrowed eyebrows as consciousness and slumber continued their endless battle. 
> 
> The typically peaceful breeze floating in through the open window seemed to join the struggle as well, tickling the bare flesh on his neck, chest, and arms. It momentarily subsided, only to begin blowing his bangs across his forehead and yank at his heavy coal eyelashes in an attempt to draw his eyes open. 
> 
> It eventually retreated, gusting through the window a final time, and carrying along with it the sound of chirping crickets, who took the place of the wind on the battle field. The sound increased drastically in volume, lessened, and then magnified again, successfully preventing slumber from gaining an advantage over the other side. 
> 
> Reluctantly, his eyelashes fluttered, parting from the soft skin on which they had rested. Swirling, twin pools, mixtures of fire and ice, were revealed. An agitated glare surfaced on his countenance, directed at nothing in particular except the invisible, opposing noises. 
> 
> Sitting up, he listened as the crickets seemed to cheer excitedly at their victory. He thought he had been lucky to be allowed to turn in early, since the party had been held tonight, but it turned out making no difference -- the party was ending by now, and he hadn't received even a few minutes of sleep. 
> 
> Standing to his feet, he pulled on his pants and yanked his white shirt on over his head. He knew the only place open would be the Training Center, but anywhere was better than here right now. His own dorm room seemed so torturous. 
> 
> He slid his leather, fur-collared jacket on as he exited his room, grateful that no one was around that he could see. He didn't feel like being questioned, especially since everyone thought he had left the party to go to bed early -- yet, here he was, roaming the hallway. 
> 
> Being Commander, no one had wanted him to leave the party so soon, but he had, anyway . . . Thanks to Rinoa, but only because she had wanted to leave early, as well. However, her purpose of leaving had been different. He recalled her words, how she had explained to him that she wanted to go somewhere private. When he didn't agree, she had simply turned around, and, rather loudly, gone into her guest room and slammed the door. 
> 
> A heavy, much needed sigh was emitted from his slightly parted lips as he now stood inside the 'secret area' in the Training Center, right hand pressed against his forehead -- an action caused by annoyance, lack of sleep, and . . . Something he couldn't quite distinguish as actually being_ one _certain reason that he felt like this.   

> 
> _. . . Confusion . . . ? Maybe . . ._   

> 
> He shook his head, almost violently, paying no attention to the ceaseless tugging of the wind on his soft, brown strands of hair. These thoughts had been crossing his mind for a while now, but never had he felt this strongly that nothing was going right . . . Or at least what he considered to be right.   

> 
> _. . . Guilt . . ._   

> 
> That was it. As if to assure him of that realization, the wind yanked his hair extra hard, seeming to intertwine itself around each strand. He took that moment to glance upwards, at the exact second every star in the sky appeared to erupt with a newfound light. 
> 
> The more he contemplated it, the more he discovered how guilty he felt . . . Yet, he didn't really feel_ bad _about it.   

> 
> _. . . Why? . . ._   

> 
> His piercing, gray-blue eyes stared at the stars, as if asking them for the answer. He was just as lost and unimportant as a single star out of billions, up in that huge, velvety black sky.   

> 
> _. . . Because it's not my fault . . . It's Rinoa's . . ._   

> 
> The thought seemed to catapult itself into his mind, all at once. Rinoa had been very selfish, and didn't seem to care at all about his opinions . . . Especially lately. Uninvited reflections immediately clouded his mind when he could no longer find the effort to keep them away. Entering his mind was what had happened only a few days ago . . .   
  
  
_****_

~~~~~   
  
  


"Squall, there you are! Where have you been!?" 

He turned around in the direction of the recognizable voice, remaining stationary so the holder of it could catch up with him. The figure rushed toward him hurriedly, throwing her arms around his neck without hesitation. 

"I . . . Haven't really been anywhere," Squall answered, puzzled, and slowly placed his arms around her when she didn't show any signs of letting go of him. Why is she acting like she hasn't seen me in weeks? I just saw her less than an hour ago . . .

"Well, anyway . . . ," Rinoa began, finally releasing the death grip she had on him. "I want you to go somewhere with me . . . " 

". . . Where?" Please don't say you want to go to a party . . . 

"A party, of course!" 

". . . . ." 

"Well . . . ? Don't you wanna go?" she asked him, tugging on the arm of his leather jacket. 

"Sorry . . . I don't really feel like it," he responded, not exactly being dishonest. He was sick of going to parties outside of the ones held at Garden. That's all she ever wanted to do. He was more than surprised when her usually cheerful smile faded to a straight line, forming a grim expression upon her dark features. 

". . . You never wanna do anything with me anymore! What am I doing wrong!?" she shouted angrily, typically calm eyes flashing with something that reminded him of a thunderstorm. Without looking back, she turned and ran the opposite direction, leaving stunned students in her wake.   
  
  


~~~~~ 

> . . . There had been many more times before that when they had argued, but as he remembered it, he had never actually started anything. If she was more open to his ideas, maybe they would get along better . . . Though, every day, he began to doubt their relationship more. 
> 
> It wasn't hurting him . . . Just making him remember every previous loss . . . And as hard as it was for him to admit, there was one in particular that he regretted . . .   
  
  

> 
> ***   
  
  

>
>> Well, there's the second part. Thanks to everyone who gave me those helpful reviews! From what I see, there was a bit of confusion about what the pairing's gonna be -- I can assure you that it's_ not _ going to be a Quiefer. Sorry to any Seifer/Quistis fans, but I_ can't stand _ that pairing. I happen to** love ** Quall, so . . . I think you can pretty much take a guess. Please review, everyone! Thanks!!   
  



	3. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer:** Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft. I am making no profit off of this fanfiction. It is for entertainment purposes only. However, the story**_ does _**belong to me, and you may_ not _use any part of it for any purpose without my permission.   
  
**Author:** Kisutis   


*** 

No Longer Misunderstood - Chapter Three   
  
  


> If she didn't know better, she would have decided at the moment that the whole world had somehow become motionless, and she was the only thing functioning. Everything around her was silent, and if a pin were to drop, it seemed it would be heard throughout the entire Garden. 
> 
> Gentle winds tangled with her golden tresses of hair, swirling them around as if it were attempting to play . . . Dual orbs of crystal blue examined the endless sea of gorgeous stars above her still figure . . . Yet, it didn't feel real. 
> 
> Had someone found her? She could feel a presence, like the sensation you experience when you just know something is about to happen -- not a prediction, but a knowledge of it. 
> 
> She came here often, usually to just contemplate some things, like now . . . But it hurt so much to do so. Hadn't her decisions in the past been carried out to the best of her ability? Had she failed again, just like she had failed being an instructor? 
> 
> She folded her arms atop the smooth, stone railing, leaning her slender body against it as she closed her eyes, the thick coal eyelashes caressing her soft cheeks. Whoever was behind her was still there, but she didn't want to acknowledge their presence -- maybe they would leave.   

> 
> _. . . Maybe I don't want them to leave . . . ? . . ._   

> 
> The presence felt so familiar all of the sudden that she felt her heart jump into her throat. Surely, she had to be imagining things . . . And she bit her lip to keep it from trembling, knowing who she wished it would be. 
> 
> ". . . Instructor . . ." 
> 
> Abruptly, the world all seemed to pick up its pace again, causing a tiny, surprised gasp to be emitted from her lips as the voice broke into her thoughts. She knew that voice -- Hyne, how couldn't she know that voice? It was forever imprinted in her mind, haunting every thought, each nightmare. 
> 
> Slowly, almost hesitantly, she forced herself to turn around and face the figure standing only about a meter away. Her movement was practically soundless, never disturbing the silence that remained after his low voice had cut through the chilly air. 
> 
> "Squall . . . ?" 
> 
> She spoke his name like a question, although her thoughts had been upon him before he had said anything. What was he doing out here, especially if the party was still going on? Where was Rinoa?   

> 
> _. . . And he still refers to me as 'instructor,' even though I haven't been one for nearly a year . . ._   

> 
> "What are you doing out here? I thought you were at the party . . . ," she said, simply voicing her thoughts. What else could she say? She was completely confused as to why he had decided to come to the 'secret area,' of all places. 
> 
> " . . . Not my thing, I guess," he answered, eyes narrowing slightly as his jaw clenched nervously. He hadn't expected to see her at all, and now he wished he would've just kept his mouth shut and left. "You should be in there enjoying yourself." 
> 
> "I just wanted to be alone for a minute . . . ," she explained, simply and quickly, as she didn't want to reveal her true emotions by the slight quiver in her voice. 
> 
> She turned away, eyes again focused on the breathtaking view before them. This just couldn't be right, feeling this way for a man who was taken. Her thoughts from before came back to her -- Squall is bound to Rinoa, and it can't be changed. 
> 
> More importantly, Rinoa had been pleasant to her! What would people think of her if she were to betray that kindness? Sure, she had her own share of disagreements and arguments with Rinoa, but she definitely wouldn't consider the slightly younger girl an adversary.   

> 
> _. . . Just someone standing in the way of my love for Squall . . ._   

> 
> She was shocked at her own thoughts, and ashamed of it, as well. Because of the difficulties she had with her own mind, she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold on to what had previously been there . . . Memories, friends, even lessons she had learned the hard way. 
> 
> Then, she couldn't even come up with an explanation of why she worried about these things. Squall had never had an interest in her, and just thinking of it made her want to leave so she could cry without him discovering how weak she was inside. Every moment without him, another piece of her would break away . . . Soon, there would be nothing left but useless rubble, and no one would remember who she_ had _been before all of this . . . Before Rinoa came into the picture so abruptly.   

> 
> _. . . It's** my ** fault, anyway . . . For not taking my only chance . . ._   
  
  
  

> 
> ***   
  
  

>
>> Forgive me . . . I know I keep kinda leaving you guys hanging at the endings of the chapters. I'll have the fourth one up as quick as possible if you guys review, okay? I hope you like where this is going! Also, I'm sorry if I made Rinoa even more evil and bratty than she really is -- it's because I don't like her too much.   
  



	4. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer:** Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft. I am making no profit off of this fanfiction. It is for entertainment purposes only. However, the story**_ does _**belong to me, and you may_ not _use any part of it for any purpose without my permission.   
  
**Author:** Kisutis   


*** 

No Longer Misunderstood - Chapter Four   
  
  


> His emotionless stare, a silvery gray in the soft, gently cascading moonlight, rested upon the figure turning away from him. The wind had calmed, its whistling silenced. He was in another place now, with only one other person, it seemed -- not even the usually noisy seagulls made their presence known. 
> 
> He couldn't help but wonder about how quiet Quistis was being, but maybe it was just as well. He couldn't get caught up in this . . . Whatever it was that messed with his mind, telling him that all previous decisions should have been made differently. Often, these strange thoughts made reference to the past . . .   

> 
> _'. . . All you do is lose things; you never gain . . .'_   

> 
> That, he knew, was true. What_ had _he gained that would never disappear? Nothing. Already, he felt as if he was beginning to lose everyone else, or make yet another wrong choice. There were so many things he looked back on and regretted, that nothing fortunate shone through that heavy, black cloud full of despair.   

> 
> _'. . . Everything will be gone tomorrow . . . No one is here for good . . .'_   

> 
> Living in the past again -- why couldn't he just dismiss it and move on with his life like everyone else? Like a_ normal _person? Experiences and thoughts refused to allow it, and it made it impossible to relax and sleep. It was beginning to drive him crazy, although he would never admit he was losing control over his own mind. No one seemed to realize his sorrow, and that simply made him feel secure to at least have his tough exterior remaining; that antisocial barrier. For as long as he could remember, which didn't include a gigantic vault of memories because of the Guardian Forces, it had been this way . . . So he could continue on this way. He was determined to believe what his mind had always told him:   

> 
> _. . . I don't need anyone . . ._   

> 
> Without a word, he turned around and started toward the exit, his boots creating a dull thud on the hard, cold surface beneath him. There was nothing he could say to her problems, now that he realized how many he had of his own -- and it would stay that way, because it seemed he always had something to deal with. Various tasks, whether they were quite simple or complicating and difficult, had become quite a burden, along with his title as Commander, which he had never asked for, nor desired. 
> 
> The one thing that had always annoyed him most was people thinking they knew what was best for him. Why couldn't they concentrate on their own lives? For all he knew, they were sitting in their rooms at night, brainstorming ways to control his life -- although he couldn't really call it_ his _life any longer. He felt manipulated, and lacking any sort of handle on what he could usually grasp. 
> 
> ". . . Squall, wait . . ." 
> 
> He halted in mid-step, lowering his raised boot to the ground. Pivoting on his heel to face her, his strikingly gray-blue eyes briefly locked with her crystal blues. A barely audible sigh escaped his lips as he placed a hand on his hip, lowering his gaze to the ground as if it was something of interest. 
> 
> Even now, as she faced him, she could feel her mouth quiver, her hand slightly shake as she placed it atop her soft, coral skirt. What could she say to him now? She knew that if she didn't stop now, she may not be able to keep everything that had been bottled up for so long inside . . . There was no telling what the outcome would be . . . It could hurt them both beyond repair, but she had wanted another chance for long. Somehow, she knew she wouldn't take it -- not now. She couldn't just steal him away when he'd already been stolen before. 
> 
> She exhaled slowly, eyes resting upon him, gazing at him through the thin lenses of silver ovals that set delicately on the bridge of her nose. She typically had something ready to say to him, just off the top of her head. Somehow, she didn't know how to talk to him now. All of her senses had been blurred in the last few moments, and it seemed near impossible to recover. Why was it that he looked even more appealing to her than ever now? Maybe it was because she hadn't had time to really look at him lately, when they were around the others. There had never been time for that -- there was always something begging for attention at the most inconvenient times. Other times, she probably would have giggled at whatever came out of his mouth . . . Was she annoying him now, by not speaking? Did he want her gone, to leave him alone forever? 
> 
> Nothing was funny anymore . . . Everything seemed terribly serious, like betting on your own life or cheating death itself. In a way, she was sacrificing everything for this -- how could she go on if she knew she had ruined their relationship? 
> 
> "I . . . It's been a while, hasn't it? Since we've talked . . . ," she finally began, mentally cringing at the desperate words that had tumbled from her mouth. She hoped her own disappointment didn't show upon her features. 
> 
> Although he didn't show it, his mind was running in full speed. She had changed somehow. Maybe it was the time, or the experiences they had encountered. She wasn't always picking at him anymore, or trying to finish his sentences . . . Or questioning him about his thoughts and asking about his being 'in another world.' 
> 
> " . . . I didn't want to bother you," he replied in monotone, knowing that his statement was only partly true. She had looked very confused . . . Maybe even frightened, but there was no telling of the reason. 
> 
> "You know . . . You've changed . . . ," she mused, thoughtfully placing a finger to her lips. "You usually wouldn't worry about something like that . . ." 
> 
> He shrugged lightly, making it look like he barely contemplated her comment. Really, though, his mind devoured it, attempting to decipher the true meaning of every word and what was hidden behind it. She still watched him so closely, which was obvious by what she had last said. She read him like a book, and she always had -- she was the only person who could ever truly understand him. She always knew, no matter how unrevealing his facial expressions were, when he was uneasy or concerned about a certain matter. Even Headmaster Cid got a laugh out of it when her predictions of his reactions were right on the mark. 
> 
> A swift breeze was then felt by the both of them, and wispy clouds suddenly covered the previously clear, star-studded sky. The air seemed even more chilly than before, and Quistis shivered noticeably at the abrupt change in temperature. The clouds appeared a dark gray, hovering above the Garden and slowly passing through. 
> 
> "Looks like rain . . . ," Quistis thought aloud quietly, eyes gazing to the darkening sky. Just as she said so, watching his eyes raise skyward, perfect droplets of cold water began falling from the rumbling clouds. 
> 
> As the droplets changed to what felt like sharp needles, the cold water numbing any visible skin, Quistis dashed for the overhang just above the door. She cowered underneath it, not wanting to get even more drenched than she already was. Squall seemed to simply ignore the downpour, even though his unruly hair was already sopping wet, as he slowly made his way toward her. He stopped just beside her, piercing blue eyes studying the small splashes the raindrops created as they hit the hard surface of the floor. 
> 
> _. . . He sure does make an incredible sight . . . ,_Quistis thought, taking the opportunity to gaze at him when he wasn't paying any attention to her. His hair appeared darker than usual, being wet, and hung limply around his face. Tiny droplets of water clung to his eyelashes, somehow strengthening the gray in his eyes. Rain trailed down his neck in clear paths, taking unpredictable turns and traveling in zigzag lines until they collided with his jacket. The white shirt he wore might as well not have been there, considering that the rain had caused it to fit tightly to his well-defined chest -- and then he turned to look at her, the movement sending droplets sliding from his hair. 
> 
> She shivered again, wiping away the raindrops that rolled across her soft skin. Whether it was the look he gave her or the chill she had received from the rain, she didn't know -- maybe it was a little of both. Too caught up in her sudden nervousness from the intense look in his eyes, she hadn't noticed him removing his jacket. She could only watch as he stepped forth, stopping just in front of where she stood. 
> 
> He gripped the jacket in his hands, eyes lowering to it as he slid it around her shoulders. Taking a step back, he raised his face, hoping she couldn't hear the loud pounding of his heart. It sounded like a freight train to him, and it seemed everyone within ten miles would be able to hear it. 
> 
> She was so startled by his sudden, unexpected movements, that all she could do was gaze into those amazing eyes. It was as if he had just placed her under a trance, rendering her unable to think or act on her own. His touch . . . The way he had so carefully placed the jacket around her; the way his hands had lightly brushed over her arms, caused an unfamiliar feeling to arise within her. 
> 
> She felt helpless, so much so that she could barely hold herself up. Where was the part of her that was prepared for anything and everything? Where was the part of her that could remain calm and composed, no matter what the situation? Everything about him now seemed so warm, so inviting. The urge was there, telling her to reach out and experience what it really felt like to have her arms around him -- something she knew she should have discovered a long time ago. She had imagined it so many times, wondering how it could ever happen . . . 
> 
> . . . And before she knew what she was doing, she was absentmindedly leaning forward, into him. Slowly, shakily, her arms encircled his torso, graceful hands lightly resting on his back. She could feel how wet he was from the rain, and that he seemed startled from her actions -- but he didn't make an attempt to pull away. 
> 
> It all hit him at once -- the feel of having her soaked, cold body so close, the smell of her hair, her fingertips on his back. Hesitantly, he rose his arms, placing them around her.   

> 
> _'. . . What about Rinoa . . . ? . . . ,' his mind reminded him._   

> 
> Abruptly, he let go of her, yanking away from her embrace. It couldn't happen -- couldn't be this way. It was too confusing . . . What would happen? What would he tell Rinoa? 
> 
> Without another glance, he pulled open the door, letting it slam shut behind him as he walked through. His life was already messed up enough, stressful enough, and now he was going to fall for his former instructor and try to think of some excuse to give to Rinoa?   

> 
> _. . . I'm not going to fuck up my life any worse . . ._   

> 
> Storming down the hallway, he left a trail of raindrops . . . Behind him, someone else left a trail of tears.   
  
  
  

> 
> ***   
  
  

>
>> Well, how was that?_ Please _ review, so I'll have more inspiration. I haven't had many reviews since I posted the third chapter, so I took a lot longer to get this one done. By the way, this chapter and some of the last were partially based on some online role-playing I did with one of my friends -- he role-played Squall, and I was Quistis. Thanks a tonberry for reading, everyone, and please review! And yes, I did say 'tonberry.'   
  



	5. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer:** Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft. I am making no profit off of this fanfiction. It is for entertainment purposes only. However, the story**_ does _**belong to me, and you may_ not _use any part of it for any purpose without my permission.   
  
**Author:** Kisutis   


*** 

No Longer Misunderstood - Chapter Five   
  
  


> He lay restlessly, eyes squeezed shut, back underneath the sheets on his uncomfortable dorm room bed. The thin layer over him seemed suffocating, the mattress as hard as a rock. The silence was almost eerie, though he didn't notice it. Usually, he would savor the silence, but it didn't help him now -- his thoughts endlessly pounded inside of his head, as if trying to escape. Hyne, how he wished they would just go away. 
> 
> Suddenly, a strange, yet familiar sensation overcame him. He felt exhausted, and his head throbbed with pain that was even more intense than before. He groaned helplessly, holding his forehead in his hands, silently pleading that the pain would vanish. Before he could attempt anything else, he felt himself slipping away . . . And then knew, just before he passed out, what this was. But why now . . . ?   
  
  
_****_

~~~~~   
  
  


His eyes flew open, wide and confused, revealing swirling pools of blue and gray. Bright light from an open window stabbed at his vulnerable eyes, forcing him to shield his face with his hands temporarily. Slowly lowering his hands as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight, he glanced downwards, over the sheets that covered him -- blue sheets . . . !?

He closed his eyes tightly in an attempt to clear his head, and opened them again. The sheets were still blue, and . . . Oh Hyne, he was afraid to raise his eyes from that spot. Since when did he have blue sheets? Completely baffled, he forced himself to look around the room -- as soon as he did so, he wished he hadn't.   
  
THUD.   
  
She awoke to the sound of something hitting the floor, and pried her tired eyes open. Sitting up, her dark raven hair falling over her bare shoulders, she glanced around with a puzzled expression upon her features as she tried yanking more of the sheets around herself. Something was pulling from the other side, she noticed, and then leaned over the edge of the bed where the rest of the sheets were. 

"Squall . . . What are you doing on the floor?" 

He could do nothing more than stare up at her in total shock. She seemed to think everything was normal, simply lying there with barely anything to keep her hidden from his view. He struggled to form words, but all he could manage was what sounded like an unknown language. This caused the brunette to giggle uncontrollably, and he raised an eyebrow at her -- a rather shaky one. 

"Rinoa . . . ?" he was finally able to say, still twisted up in the sheets beside the bed. 

"I'm so glad you know my name, sweetie," Rinoa said sarcastically, resting her weight on her elbows, facing him. "We've only been married for nearly a month now." 

His head spun. What the hell is she talking about . . . ?** Before he had time to respond to her, she leaned forward further, practically on top of him. **

"And, you moaned it enough last night, even though you'll never admit it," she whispered into his ear, pushing him onto his back as she laughed at his startled expression. 

"W--. . . What?" he stammered, more confused than ever. . . . Guess I've finally cracked . . .

She pressed her lips to his neck, and it was then he realized that only one of the thin sheets was separating their bodies from eachother. He could feel the dark shade of crimson spread across his face in embarrassment, and raised his hands to her shoulders in an attempt to push her off. 

"R-Rinoa, I . . . I don't think we should -- . . . " 

"Squall, what's wrong with you? Did you get a concussion when you fell off the bed or something?" she asked, lifting her face to his and staring at him in surprise. "Don't tell me you're still mad at me . . ." 

Once again, he couldn't speak. What the hell was going on!? Trying to calm himself, he closed his eyes, remembering the night before. He was positive he had fallen asleep in his own bed, alone -- not here, and he definitely had never married Rinoa . . . And he was supposed to be angry at her for some reason? That sparked his curiosity, and he looked at her as she finally moved off of him, sitting beside him with the sheet still draped around her. 

". . . Mad at you for what?" 

"My God, Squall . . . You are really weird today. You don't even remember that?" 

". . . I have no idea about anything you're saying . . . I never married you, and I slept in my own bed last night . . ." 

Her expression was one of astonishment as her mind took in his words. "Do you even remember how old you are?" she questioned, only being half sarcastic. "In case you forgot that too, you turned nineteen yesterday."   


. . . What? But . . . I don't turn nineteen for another six months . . .**   
**

He gasped out loud as there was a bright flash of light -- then it was black, and he couldn't feel anything around him, as if everything had suddenly disappeared. What in the world could be happening to him now . . . ?   
  
  
  


***   
  
  


> What the hell is happening? If you wanna know, review! I was planning on this being the last chapter, but I decided the next part should go in a different chapter, so . . . You'll have to review if you wanna find out. Thanks, everyone . . . Atleast, those of you who will be kind enough to review! I feel like I'm writing for no purpose if barely anyone reviews.   
  



	6. Chapter Six

**Disclaimer:** Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft. I am making no profit off of this fanfiction. It is for entertainment purposes only. However, the story**_ does _**belong to me, and you may_ not _use any part of it for any purpose without my permission.   
  
**Author:** Kisutis   


*** 

No Longer Misunderstood - Chapter Six   
  
  


>   
  
  
_****_

~~~~~   
  
  


The spinning halted, his head still whirling with confusion. He kept his eyes shut as tightly as possible, for fear of determining where he was now. He was lying atop something, which felt like a very soft mattress. I'm definitely not back in my own bed . . .

There had to be a rational explanation for what was occurring. There just had **to be. When this had initially started, before he awoke with Rinoa, he recalled thinking that the sensation had been very familiar. It was exactly the same as other times, when he had been sent to the `dream world.' ** But why now . . . ? 

He finally mustered up the courage to open his eyes, and hesitantly glanced to the other side of the bed -- he sighed heavily with relief. No one was there. What was he supposed to see this time? Taking the opportunity to scan the room, he noticed that these sheets were a light peach color, along with the curtains that blew in front of an open window. 

Sitting up, he looked down at himself -- black boxers. At least I have some clothes on this time, **he thought bleakly. Whoever was showing him this dream certainly wouldn't think he was very modest. He slid off of the bed, shaking his head. Was he still himself? Spotting a mirror across the room, he padded over to it, staring at his reflection. Nothing was different that he could tell, thank Hyne. **

It was so bizarre . . . Everything felt real, yet there was no way it could be. His mind wandered distantly, perplexed. There was only one person he knew of who could possibly have the power to send his mind into the future through a dream – Ellone. But why would she cause him to dream about that? 

He didn't even want to attempt to speculate about it any longer, but . . . What had triggered the ending of that last dream? Was he supposed to find something out, and then the dreaming would discontinue? 

Cautiously, he made his way to the only door, gripping the knob. His palms were damp with perspiration, making it a bit more difficult to turn it. He nearly winced when the door opened. It creaked moderately, revealing a short hallway, which led into another room – the kitchen, it appeared to be. 

Blue-gray eyes arose, peering straight ahead of him. He stopped abruptly, holding his breath, as soft footfalls were heard in what he had assumed was the kitchen. Who could that be . . . 

Before he had time to prepare himself, his question was answered. The footsteps ceased in front of the kitchen counter, within his view. Back turned to him, clad in a simple white night shirt, was none other than Quistis. 

He cradled his forehead in one hand, momentarily shutting his eyes. Her, too? What did it mean . . . ? It was really starting to worry him – maybe he really had **just lost his mind. **

Thinking he might as well get the dreaming over with, he ventured a few steps further, until he was just behind her. She actually looked quite a lot different with her hair down and her glasses off, and he didn't recall ever seeing her like that before. He watched, his presence unknown, as she made coffee. He wondered if he could drink coffee in his dreams, too. 

She suddenly turned around, running right into him since he hadn't been far behind her. Now, he really wished he had thought to put more clothes on before, but who knew what kind of crazy outfits he would have in a dream . . . So it likely wouldn't have helped, anyway. 

"Oh, goodmorning Squall," she smiled, gazing up at him. He was caught off guard as she leaned upwards, placing a soft kiss directly upon his unsuspecting lips. "Sleep well? I made coffee, if you want some." 

He felt dazed – was he married to Quistis in this illusion? Married to two women in one night, when he would rather be sleeping peacefully, was not his idea of fun. 

"Yeah . . . ," he answered speechlessly. ". . . What's today?" 

She arched a slender eyebrow, but figured he was just feeling groggy since he had probably barely woken up. "Well, yesterday was your nineteenth birthday . . . So that makes today the twenty-fourth."   


. . . How can that be? It makes this the same day it was in the dream with Rinoa . . .**   
**

". . . Squall, are you all right? You look really concerned about something . . . ," she told him, brushing a chestnut-colored lock of hair away from his eyes. 

". . . I'm fine," he lied, and should have known he couldn't get away with it. 

"No, you're not. I can tell. Come on, Squall . . . We've been married for almost a month. You know you can talk to me about anything."   


. . . Married for the same amount of time, too? . . .**   
**

"Quistis, I'm– . . ." 

Before he could finish, the same bright light flashed before him. Once again, everything became pitch black . . .   
  
  
  


". . . Sorry . . ."**   
  
  
  
*** **   
  
  


> I know I'm dragging this out more than I originally intended to . . . Sorry about that! I imagine I'll have this story finished very soon, and I already have another Quall in mind. I hope you guys will read it. Also, I apologize about all of my begging for reviews. I've been in a really bad mood lately, and I tend to get like that. I know you guys probably don't enjoy all of my little bribes. I really, really appreciate all of the positive reviews I got, though. Thank you all very much. Anyway, I won't get down on my knees and beg until you review this time – but if you want to go ahead and review, please do. I still love any comments and suggestions you all have. Thanks again for reading!   
  



	7. Chapter Seven

His figure bolted up abruptly, coated with perspiration. Glancing around, he struggled to catch his breath, but all he could manage was to choke on the air surrounding him. He was finally able to focus enough on his surroundings, despite the foggy darkness, and found he was back in his own room, in_ his _bed. Was it over . . . ? 

Thankful that he seemed to have returned to reality, he collapsed backwards onto his pillow. The thoughts clouding his mind continued to swirl endlessly, making him more aware of the painful headache that had resulted from the two dreams -- or whatever they were. It was still dark outside, and it felt strange because it had been morning in those visions . . . Visions that someone had to cause him to see. That someone_ had _to be Ellone, even though he had never known her to make people dream about something that hadn't even happened. 

Standing to his feet, he yanked on his clothes all over again. He was positive there would be no sleep until he discovered the hidden meaning behind what he had seen, and the only way he'd ever be able to figure it out would be to ask Ellone herself. But where was she? He remembered talking to her before he left the party, so she must have remained at Garden for the night. 

He wasn't the slightest bit sure where to start his search. She could be virtually anywhere. Stepping out into the hallway, he cradled his pulsating forehead in one hand. There was only one thing he was sure of -- he wasn't going to run around knocking on everyone's door during the after-hours. Heh, and that really narrowed his search down a hell of a lot. 

Glancing up, he tried to determine which way to go first -- and then he really couldn't believe his luck. Was that_ her_? He walked briskly in the direction of the figure sitting on a bench down the hall, nearly unbelieving. Never had he expected finding her to be anywhere near this easy. He saw her raise her head to look at him as he approached, and he stopped a few feet away from her. 

"Ellone, I need to talk to you about-- . . ." 

"I know exactly what you want to know. That's why I waited out here. I knew you'd come looking for me." 

He sighed, glad he didn't have to explain himself, and then stared down at her with a rather harsh expression. "Then tell me. What in the hell is this all about? Why are you messing with my mind again? And since when can you make me dream about . . . _That_?" 

"You need to understand something first, Squall. I only did this to make your life easier, and I know you don't realize that yet. I know how you feel about both Rinoa and Quistis, and you're confused about your feelings, right?" she replied patiently, used to his attitude. He was a little worse than usual, since he was especially tired and confused. 

"I . . . How do you know?" he responded, lowering his voice and sitting on the bench beside her. 

"It'll just take longer if I try to explain . . . It's even hard for me to comprehend sometimes. In both of those dreams, you were shown two different paths you could take. One or the other could happen, and maybe neither of them will. It's your choice." 

" . . . How is seeing that going to help me?" he questioned, resting his head in his hands. 

"Well, let me ask you this . . . Who did you feel more comfortable with? Rinoa or Quisty?" 

The question startled him. He hadn't really considered that thought -- who had he felt more comfortable with? Rinoa had teased him and seemed rather in charge of him, while Quistis had been more down to earth and reasonable. Something about Quistis had calmed him, and he had felt the need to apologize to her because of the way he had yanked away from her so suddenly. Rinoa had . . . Well, confused him further and didn't seem to take him seriously. 

" . . . Quistis . . . ," he whispered quietly, never intending to actually reveal it to her. He shook his head when he realized he had. 

Ellone stood. "You know, Squall . . . She cares for you a great deal. Don't forget it." 

He glanced up. "Wait, Ellone . . ." But she was already gone.   
  
  
  


***   
  
  
Whoa, I'm back. I know I haven't updated in FOREVER. I'm really sorry, guys! My computer crashed and I finally got it fixed. Besides that, I've been out of town and busy with school, too. I'll try to get the next chapter out ASAP. I know this one was pretty short, but I wanted to hurry up and get out another one really quick so you guys wouldn't think I had given up or something. Anyway, I'll appreciate any reviews, and thanks a tonberry for reading! :D   
  



	8. Chapter Eight

Her heart shattered. That is, if it could possibly be split apart into smaller fragments than it already was. Her forehead throbbed, the pain ranging from dull to sharp, because she was still awake. She hadn't gotten any sleep, though her tears had long ago dissipated. Slightly reddened eyes stared up at the ceiling from her position on her bed. 

Long ago, it had been, when she first laid eyes upon him. A mere child. Never had she expected to still carry feelings of affection toward him along with her . . . It was so long ago, and yet it never failed to seem like yesterday to her. 

Had Squall forgotten, finally, those memories of the past? Or had he simply not allowed himself to think of them again? True, many of their childhood memories were painful. But they had been together, too, though she knew he couldn't remember their little adventures together down at the beach -- when she used to notice the brilliant blue of the sky, which she took for granted now. 

She remembered that day so vividly . . . Waves soft and rhythmic, lapping upon the sandy shore . . . Sun shining brightly, illuminating the baby blue sky . . . Refreshing air, energetic breeze . . .   


She said to him, timidly, "Squall?" 

He turned around, his shiny brown hair swaying about his face and his bangs partially covering blue-gray eyes. So adorable, she thought. But his feelings were always hidden. 

"What, Quisty?" he responded, bending down to pick up a seashell. He turned suddenly, tossing the shell out into the foamy water. 

"I was thinking . . . If we weren't both sent here, we probably never would've met," she answered, staring into the waves. "I'm glad you're here with me." 

What she said seemed to stir something within him, and she watched as he turned and headed off down the beach. She just wanted him to know she appreciated his company. Maybe he did know that, but . . . He always seemed so sad.   


Gradually pulling away from that memory, she rolled onto her side and pulled the sheets around her. Miserably, she curled up and allowed more tears to fall upon her bed. She knew she couldn't live like this any longer. She would die of heartbreak if she didn't end this herself. 

She threw her sheets aside, getting up and heading into her bathroom. Bitter tears streamed down her face as she yanked numerous drawers open, searching for pills. Her vision was too blurry to notice what kind of medicine the bottles contained, but it didn't matter to her. She just had to escape. Escape from this terrible, torturous world where it seemed everyone was out to get her. And there was nothing for her, either. The only thing she had ever wanted this badly was out of her reach. 

Her hand shaking, she removed the cap from a bottle of pills and lifted it to her lips. She quivered with fear and excitement at the same time. She was ending her life, but that also meant that she was ending her pain.   


Knock. Knock.   


She lowered the bottle to the sink, startled by the abrupt knocking. She was furious at the interruption. She had been so close to escaping this hell! Who could be there this late? Slowly, she forced herself to see who it was. Her hand shook as she unlocked the door and turned the knob. 

_More torture_, she thought. Her eyes were playing cruel tricks on her again. It couldn't be him standing at the door. He had left her again. He had left her to go back to Rinoa. He couldn't be here. He couldn't come back to disappoint her again! 

But it was him. She knew it was. His eyes looked upon her coldly; he seemed confused. And then she realized how horrible she must look to him. Reddened eyes, tangled hair, tear stains upon her cheeks. How could he feel anything for someone so pitiful and unable to hide their hurt? He would go again. He would turn his back on her and leave her to die. 

She turned suddenly, throwing herself face-down upon her bed. She couldn't bear to look at him, nor let him see her like this any longer. She felt so pathetic as she sobbed into her pillow, trying to block out the world -- to block out Squall. 

Just as she expected, she heard the door shut behind her. She sobbed even more heavily, unable to breathe as her salty tears suffocated her. The whole damned world was suffocating. Now was the time to escape, before she lost her chance. She couldn't wait to leave forever. Maybe then he would regret the way he treated her . . . 

She gasped in alarm as she felt a hand grip her shoulder. She shot up, looking into silvery eyes -- and she was pulled into their owner's arms as her entire mind swirled with confusion. Why hadn't he left . . . ? 

Discarding her thoughts, she collapsed into his arms. A hand softly ran through her tangled hair as she continued to cry softly into his shoulder. She shivered all over, hesitantly raising her head as she gathered the courage to look into his eyes. 

Eventually, she did -- and found herself staring into soft, concerned blue orbs. She was speechless as he lifted a hand to her face, cupping it softly as he gazed straight into her eyes. 

"Quistis . . . I'm sorry," he managed, feeling foolish for saying it. He couldn't expect her to forgive him after all the times he'd screwed up. 

"Oh, Squall . . . Please, don't worry about -- . . ." 

"Shh," he whispered, placing a finger to her lips. "Just let me say this . . . I want to make the past up to you. I made the wrong choices." 

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms securely around her slender figure. He appeared calm, though his heart was beating so fast. He couldn't believe he had been able to speak his true feelings for once . . . Silently, he thanked Ellone for showing him those dreams. 

He tilted her face up toward his, brushing his lips against her cheek as he felt her arms tighten around him. Gently, he wiped the remains of her tears away and leaned close enough to touch his lips to hers, watching her eyes slide shut in anticipation. 

Finally, the gap was closed between them. His lips pressed firmly against hers, experiencing their sweet taste as she opened her mouth to him, releasing all of the passion she felt into one kiss. Surely this couldn't be happening, but it was. She could feel the comforting warmth of his body and smell the unique scent of him; even taste him. This was better than any dream her mind had ever conjured up. 

He gently pulled away from her mouth, stroking her back as he hugged her tightly. His eyes closed slowly as he felt her lean into him. 

"Do you remember that day on the beach," he whispered into her hair, "when you told me you were glad you met me? I still remember that . . ." 

***   
  
  
Oh my god, I suck so bad. I haven't updated this since last year!! Damn. I am horrible. I have an excuse, but I'm not going to go through all the explaining. It's kinda personal. I am back, though! I plan on posting another Quall that I'm already working on, so I hope you guys check it out. Thanks so much to anyone who read this story! It is finally finished after so long.   
  



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